Chapter 544 - 256: The Verdict
Philadelphia Circuit Court, Third Tribunal.
Judge Harrison returned to the bench.
His face was grim, his shoulders stiff beneath his robes.
The twelve members of the jury filed in and returned to their seats.
They dared not look at the defendant’s table, nor at the prosecution’s.
They kept their heads down, staring at the railing in front of them.
The courtroom was dead silent.
Everyone held their breath.
Reporters’ fingers hovered over their keyboards, ready to type out the fateful word at a moment’s notice.
"Jury foreman," Judge Harrison began, his voice cold. "Have you reached a verdict?"
Mike Fonda stood up.
He clutched the slip of paper, his palm slick with sweat.
"Your Honor."
Mike’s voice was a little hoarse.
"We have gone through repeated discussions and votes."
"But, unfortunately."
"We were unable to reach a unanimous verdict."
A low buzz swept through the courtroom.
Prosecutor Hart shot his head up, his face a mask of disbelief.
He stared at the jury box, trying to find the bastard who had ruined his perfect victory.
Lawyer Wayne, however, slumped back in his chair and let out a long sigh of relief.
He reached for the glass of water on the table, his hand trembling slightly.
Judge Harrison closed his eyes.
He knew what this meant.
According to Federal law, a conviction in a criminal case requires a unanimous jury.
A single dissenting vote was enough to prevent a conviction.
The judge opened his eyes again and picked up his gavel.
BANG.
The sound was dull and listless.
"Given that the jury was unable to reach a unanimous verdict."
"This court hereby declares."
"A mistrial in this case."
"Court is adjourned."
The judge stood, and without so much as a glance at Luigi, turned and left the courtroom.
Luigi Randall stood in the dock.
He was stunned.
A mistrial.
It meant the prosecution would have to refile the charges, impanel a new jury, and begin the long legal process all over again.
In this moment, he was neither guilty nor innocent.
He was suspended in legal limbo.
"Hey, kid."
Wayne walked over and patted Luigi’s shoulder.
"Don’t just stand there dazed."
Wayne cracked an ugly smile as he gathered his documents.
"You survived."
"For now, at least."
Wayne stuffed the thick stack of defense arguments into his bag.
"The prosecution’s momentum is broken now. This mistrial will draw huge public attention to the controversial nature of the case. It’ll be even harder for them to win next time."
Luigi looked at Wayne, then at the empty jury box, and finally, toward Leo in the gallery.
’Mr. President,’ Leo whispered in his mind. ’Is this the result?’
’Yes, this is the result.’
Roosevelt’s voice echoed in his head.
’Look at those twelve people, Leo.’
Roosevelt’s guidance brought Leo’s focus back to those ordinary citizens.
’A truck driver, a stockbroker, a young black man... They are the most ordinary slice of this society.’
’But in the moment that just passed, they held a power greater than even the President.’
’This is the oldest and most resilient cornerstone of the common law system.’
Roosevelt’s voice seemed to travel back through centuries, back to the drizzly Lannymede Grassland.
’In 1215, when the barons forced King John to sign the Magna Carta, they established a principle: no free man shall be arrested, imprisoned, or deprived of his property, except by the lawful judgment of his peers.’
’That was the prototype of the jury system.’
’It was born to resist the tyranny of the King.’
’The King could make laws, appoint judges, and control the army.’
’But the King could not decide a man’s guilt.’
’Only your peers, your neighbors, the people who live in the same muck as you, can decide your fate.’
Leo listened, his gaze following the departing figures of the jury.
’But, Mr. President,’ Leo asked in his mind, ’we all know the law has long been corrupted.’
’In Washington, the law is built with money by lobbyists on K Street; on Wall Street, the law is the best tool for tax avoidance. The law has become a game for the rich.’
’If the law itself is designed to protect people like Arthur Vance, then what can these ordinary people do?’
’That is precisely the most ingenious part of the system.’
Roosevelt sighed with admiration.
’That’s right. In the United States, the law is often the will of the powerful.’
’Those who possess capital hire the best lawyers and lobby Congress to amend statutes, turning the law into an ironclad fortress protecting private property and vested interests.’
’They use complex procedures and obscure terminology to turn justice into a technical skill that only the elite can afford to play.’
’In their logic, as long as it follows procedure, as long as it adheres to the letter of the law, even driving a patient to their death is legal.’
’That is the justice of technocrats.’
Roosevelt’s tone shifted, growing sharp.
’But, when this case enters a courtroom, when it is placed in the hands of these twelve ordinary people...’
’The logic changes.’
’These jurors, they don’t understand the complex liability waivers; they can’t make sense of the sophisticated actuarial risk models.’
’They possess only one thing.’
’Simple human emotion.’
’Or, to put it another way, common sense.’
Roosevelt’s voice resounded in Leo’s mind.
’This is the most primitive line of defense God has given to mankind.’
’When the letter of the law tells them: it is legal to deny a claim for the sake of profit...’
’The voice in their hearts will tell them: No, this is wrong. It is wrong to stand by and let someone die.’
’When the prosecutor tells them: a life for a life is an ironclad rule...’
’The voice in their hearts will ask in return: What if that person acted to prevent a greater slaughter?’
’This is the ultimate meaning of the jury’s existence.’
’It is the valve of humanity within the legal system.’
’It is there to prevent the law from becoming a cold-blooded killing machine.’
’When the logic of the law reaches its end and becomes absurd oppression, the people cast their veto with their intuition, with their conscience.’
’Those jury members may not be highly educated; perhaps they can’t articulate grand principles.’
’But they know what pain is, what fear is, what despair is.’
’They put themselves in that position.’
’In that moment, they weren’t judging Luigi; they were judging the arrogant, man-eating system.’
’They told those elites on their high horses: We don’t accept your rules.’
Leo looked at the empty jury box, as if he could see an invisible yet immense power that had just receded from it.
It was a power that transcended parties, transcended class, and even transcended the letter of the law itself.
It was humanity’s most primal desire for the concept of fairness.
’This is why we must trust the people.’
Roosevelt concluded.
’Though they may sometimes be deceived, sometimes fanatical, sometimes shortsighted...’
’But at the most critical moments, when the bottom line of life and death is at stake...’
’The scales in their hearts are more accurate than any legal code.’
’This is the true fabric of democracy.’
’It is an intuition for justice, rooted deep in the human heart.’
Leo nodded.
Cobb walked out of the courtroom with the rest of the jury.
Reporters swarmed him like flies, thrusting microphones in his face as camera flashes strobed wildly.
They wanted to ask why he voted to dissent, if he had taken a bribe, if he sympathized with a murderer.
The reporters wanted a bombshell, a headline.
But no one wanted to speak.
Cobb pushed away the voice recorders shoved in front of him, his movements rough and weary.
He didn’t feel like a hero, nor did he feel he had done anything particularly great.
He only felt as if he had just endured a catastrophe of the soul.
In that stuffy room, he had killed the absolute order he had believed in for half his life, betraying his own class’s instinctual pursuit of security.
He had personally torn an opening to let the winds of chaos blow in, all just to protect a faint, almost inarticulable sliver of conscience.
It left him utterly exhausted, even filled with self-doubt.
Cobb walked into the Philadelphia night, the wind on the street catching the corner of his coat.
His figure was slightly stooped as he quickly disappeared into the shadows at the end of the street, melting into the crowd of ordinary people struggling to get by.
A warmth spread through Leo’s heart as he watched their receding figures.
Leo knew these people didn’t need his thanks. They might not even like him, their radical Mayor.
But it was precisely because of people like them—ordinary people who could still listen to their inner voice at critical moments—that his struggle had meaning.
Leo turned to Ethan, who was beside him.
Ethan was still staring at the news alerts on his phone, his fingers flying across the screen as he processed information from all directions.
"Is it over?" Ethan asked without looking up.
"No."
"A mistrial means the case continues. It means Luigi still has to face trial, and it means that damned healthcare system is still in operation."
"But we’ve kept the momentum. Public anger has been ignited."
Leo strode toward the exit.
"That Mutual Aid Alliance agreement—it’s time to bring it out into the light."
"We need to ride this wave. While everyone is still talking about this trial, we need to fan the flames and make them burn even hotter."
"Let’s go. Back to Pittsburgh."
"We need to prepare early."